Disclaimer: I don´t own the rights of or anything else related to "Castle" and am only borrowing the characters. I am not making any money by doing so. Rats.
Story notes: I wanted some Ryan h/c, so I prompted myself: What if Ryan didn´t show up at work one day, without calling in sick or answering his phone? Of course, Esposito would go and check on him!
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No Matter What
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Esposito found Ryan on the floor of his bathroom, huddled against the wall in a hunched position. He gave no indication that he had heard Esposito entering his flat or the room in particular, and Javier´s stomach clenched painfully until he knelt down next to his partner and saw that he was blinking slowly.
"Hey, bro" he said, unable to hide his relief, though a quick once-over told him that there might not necessarily be reason for it yet. Ryan was hugging his stomach and looked ghastly, and there was an unmistakable stench of vomit in the air.
"What´s going on here?"
Ryan´s eyes were feverish when he finally looked up, and they showed an odd mixture of surprise, relief and embarrassment: "Javi... been throwing up all night..."
Esposito could hardly believe how weak his friend sounded, how shaky. But Ryan´s whole body was trembling, he now noticed, and that was not exactly surprising given the state he was in and the low temperature in the bathroom.
"Is that why you didn´t call me, or Beckett?"
"Call...?"
"It´s past eight, bro."
"Oh," Ryan said feebly, but managed to sound embarrassed nevertheless. "Lost track of time..."
"And you didn´t hear your phone either?"
"It´s in the bedroom," Ryan murmured exhaustedly.
"Looks like you caught quite a bug," Esposito said gently, hiding his worry at hearing this and refraining from telling Ryan off for unnecessarily scaring them. "Let´s get you off this floor... and changed," he added after seeing the vomit stains on Ryan´s shirt. "Think you can get up?"
Ryan nodded, but without Esposito he wouldn´t have managed. His partner helped him to the bedroom and eased him down on the bed, which had not even been turned down. After Ryan had slipped into a fresh shirt and pyjama pants, he crawled under the covers, exhaustedly collapsing onto the pillow.
"Want me to get a bucket or something?" Esposito teased him, rather to keep him awake for a moment longer. "You´re still green around the gills."
"Got no bucket," Ryan whispered, still shivering. "´s okay..." He huddled into the blankets as though being able to hide from the world. "Just need to sleep..."
Esposito would only let Ryan sleep after he had had some water, despite his protests. "You need something in your stomach, period," Javier said sternly, "end of discussion." This was followed by muffled "Yes, mom," but Ryan stopped complaining and drank the water.
His eyes closed as soon as he had lain down again, and he quickly dozed off. Esposito waited until he was sure he wouldn´t disturb his partner if he made a little noise, then he got up and went into the adjoining living room, where he pulled out his cell phone and called Beckett.
She was quite concerned when Esposito told her about the state Ryan was in: "He did look a little peaky yesterday now that I think about it, but he didn´t say anything," she said.
"Nah, it´s not like him to whine," Esposito replied, immediately feeling guilty because he had not even noticed. "Listen, I´m taking a personal day if that´s okay with you."
"Sure," for some reason, Beckett was glad that her detective could not see her smile, "not much going on anyway. Take good care of him." "Will do."
After they had hung up, relieved that his presence was not needed at the precinct, Esposito wandered into the small kitchen. It was neat and tidy, just as Ryan himself; the fridge was nearly empty, though, and there weren´t any ingredients for a broth to be found. If Esposito had learned one thing from his mom, it was that someone who was ill needed proper food (no matter what was ailing them, mind you). A quick trip to the corner shop would solve this, so Esposito went out again.
When he came back, everything was quiet. He dropped the paper shopping bag on the kitchen table and went to check on Ryan, who did not seem to have moved at all. Reassured by that, Esposito took his time to store his purchases away and began to prepare a chicken soup.
An odd sound made him abandon the stove a while later; it was Ryan, who was half out of bed and retching again, one hand pressed against his stomach, the other supporting himself from falling off the mattress while he stooped over. Esposito quickly made his way over to his friend, whose face was white as a sheet. He had thrown up little more than a bit of liquid, but when the bout was over, he was trembling again.
"I´m going to call a doctor," Esposito said while he helped Ryan to lie back down. "You´ll be completely dehydrated if this doesn´t stop soon."
Ryan only shuddered and closed his eyes; he was too tired to protest, and besides he would welcome to get rid of the nausea and the feeling that the floor was moving about.
His partner eyed him worriedly; usually, Ryan was not easily shut up, but could talk his way through a wall of concrete, as his mom used to say. Which Esposito considered to be one reason why they got along so well and thought nothing of ending each other´s sentences.
This defeated and silent version of Ryan however did not bode well; even without the faint yet biting stench of bile and the ghastly colour of Ryan´s face it was evident that he was seriously ill. Esposito gingerly laid one hand against the other man´s temple and forehead; the clammy heat he felt there confirmed what the unnatural glaze in Ryan´s eyes had already told him: his friend was running a fever as well. Ryan did not respond to the touch, and Esposito decided not to postpone it any longer, but immediately got up and dug his cell phone out of his jacket again.
After he had arranged for the doctor to come by, he went back into the kitchen, but he could not concentrate. When he nearly cut off the tip of his finger, he gave it up for the time being and went back to the bedroom, where he sat with Ryan, waiting for the doorbell to ring.
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Fin (for the time being)
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